


Third Day

by red__letters



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red__letters/pseuds/red__letters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Day

**Author's Note:**

> Frank's POV but is technically like limited omniscient. (Ouch.) Based off a voicemail Frank left on absolutepunk.net when Gerard disappeared during the final stages of recording for Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.

Two men (boys really) are sitting (lying) on a couch in a room with the blinds shut. They are not speaking or moving or doing much of anything besides looking at each-other dubiously. Their knees are pressed together to stop the shaking that they know will come again if they don’t. They both watch the same dust mote spiral towards the ceiling, but they don’t know it. All the colors of the room are muted, and they languish in the half-dark (on the first day God created heaven and earth and separated light from darkness). They have been up all night, too restless (afraid) to sleep.

“Why do you think he…” The question is thick and muffled, murmured into the fabric of a worn shirt. _Please have an answer._

“I don’t know,” _I wish I knew._ Because if he knew, he wouldn’t have to pretend that he doesn’t taste acid (helplessness) when he sees Mikey crying over the “why” of the current situation.

“It wouldn’t be as bad if we knew, you know?” _I would know what to expect if I knew why._ Mikey sounds weary. Frank supposes this is because he had spent a better part of the night shuddering (sobbing), refusing to cry (there were no tears – just dry, hysterical sobs that made his entire body shake). Frank knows his voice is hoarse and rough (instead of sobbing, he spent part of the night screaming until his mouth tasted like it was filled with pennies), and probably isn’t much comfort

“I know,” Frank would love to say more. Would love to touch his fingertips to Mikey’s cheekbones and kiss the top of his head but he can’t. Because he knows the verbal effluvia _that_ would cause would do much more harm than good. _How can he do this to us I love him you love him he loves us how can he be so selfish if he comes back I’ll kill him for doing this to us._

“We should do something,” _Please. Anything._ Frank just looks at him, then nods. He doesn’t know what Mikey expects him to do. He’s not a fucking magician, for chrissakes (he wishes he was).

“What though?” _Tell me how to make it better._ Mikey looks at him doubtfully, chewing on his lips. Frank had noticed (had stared and stared and stared because how could he not) that Gerard had this same tic. He feels something like laughter welling up in his chest, and he panics. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do?! I can’t perform fucking miracles!” And Mikey sits up, his eyes wide and liquid, looking stricken. Frank immediately clamps his mouth shut and glances at him, miserable and embarrassed (ashamed that he cares as much as he does).

Eventually these two men (boys) come to the decision that using their resources to inform as many people as possible is a good idea (they hope anyone knows something). Frank ends up doing the actual message, for reasons he doesn’t divulge (he volunteered because he didn’t want anyone else to hear Mikey’s voice crack when he said the word “missing.”) It is the second day and there is nothing but space that they seem to have no hope of ever breaching (on the second day God created the firmament).

They get a flood of “I hope you find him” e-mails, but no one knows anything more than anyone else (Gerard has always been good at disappearing). Mikey has taken to prowling around town at all hours of the night, and Frank has taken to following him. They always end up on the couch. The blinds are always drawn and they speak less and less as the hours turn into whole days.

It is on the third day that Gerard slips his key into the lock of Mikey and Frank’s apartment and eases open the door. They had been dozing (finally, after two days of restless, disjointed napping), and it wasn’t until Gerard was sitting on the floor next to the couch (Indian style and peering up at them curiously, his eyes wide and unsure) and whispered to them that they stirred. Mikey rubs his eyes under his glasses sleepily, then does a double take and shoots straight up, almost toppling Frank to the ground. Frank watches as Mikey launches himself off the couch and into Gerard’s lap, shaking. Gerard looks surprised, and Frank hates him. _How could you do this to us I hate you I hate you I hate you._ Mikey tears himself away, and sounds like he’s choking.

“You didn’t leave a note and we thought – we didn’t know what – I just – Love you,” And his breath hiccups violently, cutting off his words. Frank watches Mikey bury his face in Gerard’s neck. Now, he looks alarmed and worried and peers at Frank, looking for answers. Frank wants to scream (cry and smash his face in for making him hurt and kiss him). _I have no answers! Not for anyone!_ And then, Franks eyes feel hot and his throat feels thick and he raises his chin defiantly at the pair of them (he is never going to forgive Gerard for this) and Gerard has managed to scoot Mikey and himself over to him. Gerard grabs his arm and hauls him in, pulling him into the tangle. And Gerard, he is confused (surprised that they had noticed he was gone).

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Frank isn’t sure if it’s him saying it (for being obstinate and harsh), or Mikey (for being vulnerable without Gerard) or if it’s Gerard (for everything).

On the third day God gathered the waters into a single ocean and the dry land appeared.  



End file.
